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What Then Now the Destiny of Man

Imperfect, petty, prurient, pursuits

And prosaic pride sadly rule the roost,

What hope then of wisdom and reason -

Vision beyond that of comic books?

Can man but now shape fine porcelain

From the crusty remains of his soil,

When arid earth is the prize obtained

For his avaricious greed and toil;

Compounded, his ordinariness

Pervades the world of many sorrows,

Populist politicians profess

Promises of better tomorrows;

What then is the destiny of Man,

Insignificant in this cauldron

Of creation, where, in the bubbling

Broth, he - an intemperate inclusion,

Pompous and piquant, sours the purpose

Behind the very feasting of gods?

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Ronnie Patel